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A New Beginning
Landing Platform – Level 104: Nar Shadda Sprawled on one of the top platforms of the city-moon and held in place by a haphazard maze of interlocking grids built upon the shoulders of other levels, the landing area of Nar Shaddaa welcomes its travelers with a seedy dread of the galaxy's fringe. It is a rundown, gravity defying tarmac, filled with the best and the worst the universe has to offer, peppered with sentients of assorted species, and alive with insatiable crowds. There is a continual buzz of space traffic between Nar Shaddaa and the far-flung systems of the galaxy: mighty trans-galactic transports and bulk cargo vessels, the garish yachts and caravels of the Hutt gang lords, the battle-scarred corsairs of the mercenaries and bounty hunters, the pirate brigantines, and even the occasional commercial passenger liner, packet starjammer, or massive migration arks. Life has a different meaning here, all beings are tough and jaded and danger is nearly tangible. The sharp reek of ship exhaust is ever present, as are the ships themselves, roaring and gliding and swooping overhead, landing and taking off in an endless bizarre ballet. Small offices set up by private techs litter the edges of the spaceport, the techs shouting to one another constantly. And of course, above them all, looms the massive, pale orb of Nal Hutta. As the Masticator lurches to a slow and shudders down to the landing platform, that aft hatch emanates open even before touch down, exposing a silhouetted cameo of the one and only Esmeraldas having a fit about something that perhaps went awry during the trip from Bespin, "Oh yeah laserbrain?" An object is tossed out towards her which strikes her in the arm, just as she bellows out a grumble to said D-bag. It's daftly taken back and baseball pitched inside as that hatch begins to close, ending the little episode with a crash, so to speak. Ezzi stands there with a grimace the entire departure, those icy blue eyes seemingly cutting that shuttle in two as it fades away. "I hope ya get farkled...." Uttered out just loud enough that someone nearby could possibly hear it. Only afterwards does her attention shift to the platform and the surrounding traffic in the vicinity, that walk begins. Nar Shadda, this place smells dirty and polluted. Her kind of place. Ezzi's platinum blonde hair flows in wavy locks, blowing about with each passing ship as those eyes peer back and forth before her. She is wearing fairly simple spacer attire. It's made up of a plain black tank top that is tucked into cargo pants and held in place by a belt with a polished nickel buckle. The bottoms of the pant legs end at the tips of black combat boots. Her body is seemingly littered with bright colorful tattoos. Various sized stars around her left eye, prismatic sleeves made up of different pin-ups, graphic images, or simple script. Her stride is not quick but it may seem that way with those long legs of hers. That lazy sway doesn't seem to be deterred however. The hulking snail that is the 'Hirakiis' descends out of the clouds and settles onto its own landing platform. Almost immediately, the cargo-bay platform descends (think an inverted table descending from a section of the ship), and four Sullustans in gray coveralls begin hastily dispensing with the latest haul of supplies. "Move it, you lunkheads!" comes a masculine voice; Human, from the sound of it. "Yessir, Mister Jaspar! Yessir!" comes the chorus of voices in reply. The man, "MisterJaspar" as he's called, hops down onto the cargo elevator, leans against one of the struts, and puffs away on a small cigarra. "Another day, another hundred credits.. Just think happy thoughts." The visage and engine draft from that hulking snail gusts over Esmeraldas as she is advancing her way across that landing platform, coming in contact with the pad nearby. When that descending platform from the ship's cargo bay is lowered and the four Sullustans flicker into existence hastily, it causes some pause to that stride. Those icy blue eyes glare about the crew as their captain emerges with a bark behind that cigarra. The girl has these narrow eyes that are a bit intimidating to some. They tell of experience and weathered adversity. Yet, in these lowly times, here she is. After a quick scratch to her chin she takes a couple steps closer, perhaps out of curiosity. "Oy there!" There is a raise of her brow at her exclaim towards the captain. "You know where a girl can get a drink around here?" As that distance is closed she begins to look over the man's latest freight haul, simply giving a nod. If there is something illicit here, it's concealed well enough. "Nice haul…" is muttered a bit lowly with a hint of jealousy oozing off her tongue at that mention of credits. The unexpected sound of someone addressing him breaks Jaspar's focus. He glances to the woman, and offers a nod. "Yeah, I do. Meltdown Cafe's pretty good, level 92. The Beggar's Cove is pretty good as well; members-only, invite-only type establishment. Level 23. ...They'll bounce your ass out of there faster than you say say "Hi, my name is.." if you're not 'on the list', though." He rolls his shoulders, shrugging, while keeping his eyes on the Sullustan group ferrying cargo around. There is a simple nod to the response from the man when he details the different venues and their various intricacies for allowable consumption. As he simply turns back to watching those Sullustans she feels a bit like a turd left floating, only to be ignored. "Well, let's go then." A soft shrug is offered at the fact she /is/ indeed trying to get him to come along, perhaps because she doesn't have the funds to fuel the rampant need for the drink, or perhaps because she just wants some company. She offers a further explanation. "Looks like you have a good crew and a good haul. Why not celebrate a bit? Plus I'm more than used to 'rough' establishments." That blonde haired, blue eyed girl just stands there awaiting before adding, "My name is Ezzi, and yours?" She isn't a bit put off by position. "Jaspar Andromidas, Owner-Operator of Andromidas Galaxy Logistics. You call, we haul.. Have cash, will dash.. and all that." Jaspar turns his attention to the woman. The group of Sullustans finishes loading/offloading, and heads back into the depths of the ship. "Nice to meet you, Ezzi. So, what brings you here?" He offers what he hopes passes for a charming smile. "I hope you'll excuse my initial conduct. I've been waiting to put this shipment to bed since the beginning of the month. Got a massive order for chak root, and I know a guy who knows a guy willing to hook me up with a supply. The thing is, chak root's pretty delicate.. If you freeze it, you ruin the flavor, so there's a short window of time for transport." "Yeah...good to meet ya." There is a sideways peer past Jaspar as those workers begin to finish up and head back up into the bowels of the ship via that lowered platform. "Opportunity." She shifts back to him and is met with that attempt on a charming smile. A half-cocked grin is returned in favor, which is a good thing with Ezzi as you aren't boring yet. "Yeah? Chak-root huh? I have to admit it is pretty impressive you have yourself a supplier. I can see why you would be eager to get it moved and why you wouldn't want to get caught with the stuff." The ice in her eyes begins to melt a bit as she is becoming more comfortable, but still affords a look over her shoulder for a moment. "So you stay busy?" Bluntly going on to state, "I happen to be looking to earn some credits from gainful employment. Ex-Air Defense Guard at Cloud City, at your service." She figures that her experience is nothing that should be patrolled over and offers it up freely. May help secure a job if nothing else. She gives a slight head nodding bow towards him afterwards. "Air Defense Guard? Sounds like pretty exciting stuff. What happened? You prove too good for them, so they squeeze you out of front-line service and have you babysit a desk for the remainder of your career? Or did you just hit that glass ceiling?" That last bit, the way he says it, about the 'glass ceiling'.. Personal experience, perhaps? A beat. "I do my damnedest to stay busy, yeah. Nobody works for free, so I have to spend money to make money.. Business as usual." Beat. "I could always use an extra set of hands moving cargo, making sure everything gets checked in and out, and locked down for transport. I handle the flying bit myself.. This bird and I have been together for a good many years, so I know how she rides. Two halves of the same whole, you might say." The half-cocked grin turns to a smirk as Jaspar tries to pin out the exit from Ezzi's military career, those blue eyes shifting about as he speaks -that is, until the mention of that proverbial 'glass ceiling'-; "Nothing quite so lovely, I assure you." That gaze is drawn back in a sort of quizzical glare, but it's harmless. "After 12 years...Well let's just say I needed to burn sky. The clouds get a bit lofty at times." Her weight shifts as her arms come to a cross just under her breasts, giving them a bit of a 'boost' in perkiness. "If you need an extra set of hands, I'm game." There is a draw from fore to aft of his ship before coming back to him once again. "You ship is clean. Good condition. It's admirable. Most just let it get marred, but not you. Good on ya for that." Only a nod is given at the comment as to the piloting however as she knows all too well the bond one can share with a vessel. "Well I was also into upkeep myself and put in work at the A.D.G. shipyard. I know a few things about keeping a ship on task. So if you want I can help out with that as well. Just don't expect us to have the same kind of relationship you have with your other workers in that case." Always forward and to the point, but there is a flicker of playfulness finally coming from Ezzi. "I used to be up to my eyeballs in Sullustans. Even had one as my engineer. Haven't seen him since some time last month.." (OOC, really) "..so I guess I should consider him AWOL. If you want to take a crack at the engines, feel free, just keep me in the loop.. and let me know before you go putting some new-fangled experimental bit in. Don't just shove it in and expect it to work." Jaspar explains, looking pensive. "I had a guy do that, a year or so ago, and my ship fizzled out on me in the midst of a hyperjump. It got ugly, fast.. One minute we were screaming through hyperspace, the next we were dead in the water. Thankfully, before the local welcoming party could come tear us a new hole, we got the hyperdrive back up, and off we went." Only here for moments it seems and secured a job as a ship engineer? Sold. Ezzi shoves a hand out in response to Jaspar's offer, that smirk becoming a genuine smile. "You've got yourself a deal cowboy." Seems that the fickle lady luck is on her side for a change, but the hands of fate often have a way of bringing it back around. Hopefully it won't be for a while. "Don't worry about the tinkering. I mean...I /can/ do that, but only if you want it." Those blue orbs cut to the ship. "A ship is a capricious thing at times. Too much alteration and it becomes foreign. Not the best thing for a captain that needs to be on the go and attuned to it." If that hand is taken up and the employment fulfilled she might mention that bar again. Some deals are sealed with a kiss, others with a handshake. This is the latter. "Agreed. A ship is a capricious thing.." A beat. "So, how do you feel about drinks? I often meet clients in bars.. It helps keep things relaxed, in my opinion, which allows for a better read of the client, and thus I can better assess their needs. People only say so much, but often it's what goes unsaid that has the greatest impact." "Sure." Uttered out in response to the explanation about the doing of business in not only a seedier public venue but one where alcoholic beverages are involved. "Drinks sound good." There is a soft shrug. "As for business, where ever /you/ feel most comfortable I would say." There is a pause as she becomes distracted by her hair after the gust from a ship maneuvering off the platform brings it across her face. Those wavy locks get pulled back and placed into a tight bun, leading one to believe it was more the look she was probably recognized for. "Critters of the galaxy are going to try and play cards no matter where they are. A bar is as good as any place." Maybe it's just her easy come-easy go mentality or perhaps there is some truth to it. The sub context that states, 'If things are going to happen, they will' and one could assume this moody firefly is a bit of a force believer. A rare thing these days. Meltdown Café – Level 92: Nar Shadda Spacers, mercenaries, pirates, bounty hunters, traders, smugglers, black market dealers, thieves and a large array of both the galaxy's most dangerous and most wanted fill the smoky confines of Nar Shadda's most notorious bar. Stepping into Meltdown Cafe is like a trip to the heart of the galactic fringe - few places anywhere can offer more opportunities and peril. Heads turn slowly from over the tbac covered tables at each newcomer, seasoned pairs of eyes scan others with the most frigid expertise of those seeking opportunity, hardened bodies occupy the many booths. By all standards, this place is just the extension of the Smuggler's Moon, but here it manages to concentrate it all into one chamber. Lights are dim, covering the edges of the bar in constant shadows, the buzz of languages is electric, and the music saunters hypnotically between the walls. Any race can be found here, and some probably never known before. A shadowy cove dominates the area behind the bartender, likely a backroom where unspeakable plans are laid. A haze inhabits the air, where the scent of alcohol competes with the waft of spice, where the clank of money makes the world go round, and where tables and chairs bear scars of disagreements from the past. Jaspar wanders into the Meltdown ahead of Ezzie, and offers a seat at the bar, gentleman that he is. "What's your pleasure?" He smiles at his companion, before turning his attention to the cook/bartender. "Whatever she wants, she gets. Put it on my tab." With a smile and a wink she somewhat gracefully directs his way as though it is his honor to lead Ezzi about. Upon their arrival to the dankly hazed bar of unique intermingling smells, there is a gaze shift in the room towards the pair. Jaspar is sure to be recognized but the one accompanying him doesn't have that benefit as those suspicious eyes flood upon her. Those fleeting glimpses leading to murmured words that erupt like wildfire, something she knows that happens in cantinas all too well. With a bite of her lip and a snarl she simply stares them down as the way through the beatnik center is guided. With one hand moved at her back and the other giving a steady bird's eye view of that O-so-familiar human gesture stating they should 'sod off' being directed with the balls of a rancor. That hand at her back purely a bluff and it worked as they cut that gaze and quickly turn back to their previous dealings. Ezzi's gaze still on guard and perception heightened. If she is going to get respect in a new venue, she knows that she may eventually have to deal with one of the more gutsy regulars. For now, however, things seem to be nonchalant and proceeding as normal. As Jasper directs her into that seat at the bar, and she accepts with a nod, those eyes icy and narrowed upon the room -never to be caught off-guard-. "Tavraki whiskey." The answer is riposted to the question of a beverage to Jaspar as well as the bartender. "Corellian Supernova," Jaspar nods to the bartender, settling in once Ezzi's ben taken care of. The drinks come rather quickly: Ezzi's shot of Tavraki whiskey is poured with a steady hand, and placed in front of her as though serving a meal to royalty. The bottle is set off to one side for self-service. Jaspar's drink comes in the form of a salt-shaker-like device, a bottle of some off-brand booze, and a lowball glass. A measure of the booze is poured out into the glass, and a few dashes of 'salt' are shaken in afterward. The resulting mix causes the drink to at first fizzle, and then shift through a range of colors, finally fading to a murky black hue dotted with little white bits.. a simplistic field of stars. With the show completed, the drink is sent 'down the hatch', eliciting a rather.. 'feeling no pain'.. look from the man, if only briefly. A thankful nod is shot to the bartender in retort to the drink, "Appreciate it." That glass is deftly emptied right afterwards and placed back on the bar top upside-down as that bottle is snuck away into her lap and held with a bit of over fondness. Another swig is slugged off that bottle before Ezzi's icy demeanor is cut as she realizes that this bar isn't that bad, just overly nosey perhaps. Those blue orbs flicker over to Jaspar and his special drink which she hasn't seen before. "And you call that a Corellian supernova huh?" There is reservation cast towards the drink, as though she wouldn't prefer it herself but it doesn't last as she lets her curiosity rumble. "So what all has been done to your ship?" A recollection of the name drawn to mind from seeing it on the side of the hull, "The Hirakiis isn't it? Well I guess home for now." She takes another smaller swig, "Engines? Maneuvering thrusters? Comm array? Sensor array? Internal computer systems? Life support? Reactor? Hyperdrive?" She moves through the list not only to bring more specifics to what has been done to them if anything, but to also see what is there and what isn't. "Yeah. I've been drinking these since I was old enough to drink... Okay, maybe a year or two earlier." Jaspar confesses, with a grin. "My ship's a Ghtroc-class freighter, model 750." He goes into a little side-story about the differences between the Ghtroc 720 and the 750. "Alright, so, originally there was the Ghtroc Industries Class 720 Freighter, also known as the 'Ghtroc 720'. Cargo capacity of 135 metric tons, 2 months of consumables, 35 meters long, crew complement of one or two folks, plus ten passengers.." Details, details, more details. Jaspar takes a shot of whiskey and knocks it back. "..and then my ship, the 750, came about after Sardakh Ship Systems took over the production rights of the Ghtroc. My ship's built to ward off pirates in old fighters, or other small freighters.. and haul cargo. The 750's basically the same boat as the 720, just a bit faster, and more armor. Armor and shields of your standard X-Wing, half the speed, one third of the maneuvering capability. Just gotta watch out for those cap ships, or my bacon's fried.." A look is cut over to Jaspar every now and then as he talks about the differences between the on-par standard Ghtroc 720 and the Ghtroc-2 750. "Seems it already has a few key advantages added in with the new manufacturing schematics, but there is always room for marginal improvement." Ezzi takes another hearty swig off that bottle of Tevraki whiskey and clears her throat from the burn that ensues afterwards, something only a regular drinker would be able to do considering the grade of that stuff. "If there is one thing that I've learned for sure from working on military grade craft, it's that there is /always/ room for improvement, at least to an extent." After an additional glance about the room for, perhaps, extended ears or those with approach, she is pulled back to Jaspar. "Take your reactor core for instance, they come dialed down to standardized manufacturing specifications. No reason beyond assurance protocol. Of course there is an unsafe zone to take them to but depending on the core, it could really be under-producing. Meaning that the efficiency and power is far less than it /could/ be due to reduced piping." It certainly sounds like she knows what she is talking about as there is almost a glimmer of satisfaction coming off of her. A little grin gracing those lips as her blues are locked over on him. "If you can improve things while keeping them street-legal, or.. maybe a hair off.. be my guest. Honestly, the majority.. say, 99.9%.. of my business, right now, is done "above the level" or "on the level" rather than "below." I don't usually say 'no' to folks if the money's good, but I don't do everything come-one-come-all. I have my limits." A beat. "And I'd like to remain in the good graces of those on or above the level." Jaspar responds, in hushed tones. Another drink is taken. In response to Jasper, "Trust me. I understand that pretty well, as I have ample knowledge of the laws regarding ship modification." She notices his hushed tones and follows suit, just to be safe. Jaspar comes here a heck of a lot more than she does, obviously, and if he is lowering the audibility then those extended ear could indeed be present. "Good business is just that, good business. The crew I joined up with when I originally left Cloud City was a bit reckless in there abandon to get rich quick." She skims about and then continues, hushed. "I left because they were a bit too over the top, even for me. I heard they got nicked by Imperials and scraped." The latter is stated in a bit of a concerned way, "Thank god I didn't stick around." That bottle is tipped upwards at the end of a guzzle and a bit is then poured to the floor. "No matter how stupid, they didn't deserve a slaughter like that. Rest in pieces." There is a sudden break out of fisty-cuffs at a booth off to the left of the pair, the table overturned, drinks spilt, and some heated words exchanged before one of the drunken brawlers is struck with a chair from behind. Probably a friend to the one that was hit first. Ezzi simply sighs and stands even though she shouldn't really care, it is noisy enough to draw attention, and that icy gaze falls upon the perpetrators and they decide to give out a chin-nod to each other and dispense. The smuggler watches the goings-on with piqued interest, and a grin. "Wow. I had to hang around for a month or two before I could even get them to acknowledge my presence. You got them to acknowledge your presence /and/ settle down.. Are you sure you haven't been here before?" He inquires. "And yeah, by and large the work we do will be on the level.. If it's less-than-kosher, there will be a good reason. I'm not going to transport a bunch of military weapons to rebels on a distant world without a verbal sign-off from, say, someone in the military, or with a sufficient golden parachute in case something goes wrong.." There is an eyebrow lofted to Jaspar and that interest. "There is something about being in the military for so long I guess. It's Something that changes you. No matter how tough you try to act, the truth is it takes a different sort to willingly go to the next level." She speaks of murder or simply killing another space critter, which is what she commonly thinks of the smelting pot of species that exist in the galaxy. That seat is slowly slipped back into but her eyes stay affixed out on the tides crest fall amongst the bar's patrons. "I don't really blame ya. There is no since in sticking your neck on the line for someone else unless it is going to be totally worth it, and if business is good without that sort of risk. It's really not that important." Hard to believe but she is taking the last gulp from that bottle and setting it back on the bar top, near the upside-down glass that has yet to be collected. Amazingly she isn't falling over either. This girl must of had a /lot/ of free time on her hands. "After you're done, why don't we go have a look about the ship? I'm curious as I've never been inside a Ghtroc and I would also like to see the systems." There is the thought of quarters but doesn't mention it. The Corellian is having the time of his life: beautiful woman, drinks, good feelings all around. "Barkeep, drinks on me, a round for everyone!" The bar goes nuts... not nuclear-explosion-nuts, more like "YAY BEER!" nuts. Jas orders his drink, and Ezzie's, to go, and then ushers her out into the open air. "Wait until you see my baby. She may look ugly on the outside, but she purrs like a kitten, and she's beautiful on the inside." He takes his sweet time heading to the elevator. Seeing as how Jaspar is having such a good time and is totally eager to give that tour, a warm smile is brought to Ezzi's face in regards to the man. "The outside looked pretty well kept to me. If the inside is even better then I'd have to say you don't have to worry about me not being impressed. I'm used to working with scorched and battle-scarred hulls, patched cabling, and an abundance of system rigging. A sound ship is like a dream come true." She takes the fresh unopened bottle in tow as she gets up along with Jaspar. "I could only hope for something that clean one day." They move together to the turbolift on the way to the 'Hirakiis.' Cargo Bay – Hirakiis (Starship) Simplistic and devoid of any designs or extravagance, the cargo hold is meant strictly for the storage and transfer of cargo. Several tracks run along the deck to help accommodate the movement of larger loads, some of them automated, some of the pushed by hand. In the corner, there is a holopad bolted to the floor to provide communications for the ship's crew. The Hirakiis is no Millenium Falcon, but it does the trick, and it's home. The ship isn't a flying ball of mud, but it also doesn't look too much like it just came off the line. The pair enter the ship by way of the cargo elevator, which Jaspar lowers by accessing a switch in one of the ship's landing struts. A time delayed pressure switch (basically, get everybody on and wait a few seconds) triggers the return trip, slowly raising the platform back into the ship, and locking it into place. Jaspar steps down off of the platform, and offers a hand of assistance. "Welcome aboard." The wait once they reach the ship to board via the cargo lift isn't a big deal, as Ezzi is patient enough to deal with the necessities like that. Upon entering the unadorned cargo hold, she gives it a look over, running a foot over the track and having a look at the manifest terminal and the holopad. "Everything seems to be in good working order. Nice touch, that holopad." She does a closer inspection of the holo-emitter and after giving an access panel a flip open, the demonstration mode is enabled. A hologram of a Twi'lek dancer pops onto the pad and in certain areas it is a bit distorted. Ezzi simply gives a cleaning to two of the lenses and it clears right up. "There, like brand new." She closes up the access panel and secures it before a look to Jaspar with a contented nod. "So far so good. Where to next?" "Cockpit's this way." Jaspar says, with a gesture, stepping up to punch a code into the door lock, before stepping aside and allowing Ezzie to precede him into the cockpit. "I try to keep the place as clean as possible, but SOMETIMES A CERTAIN GROUP OF NAMELESS INGRATES leaves FOOD EVERYWHERE." The smuggler is rather displeased with the current state of his once-sparkling-clean cockpit. As described, there's food and drink splattered everywhere. On the landing pad below, the Sullustans chorus: "Sorry Mister Jaspar!" Cockpit – Hirakiis The cockpit of the Sardakh 750 class freighter is comfortable and well furnished. In the middle of the cockpit is a solitary black leather seat surrounded by consoles. Sensor readings and ship status lights blink and flash on those very consoles, detailing everything the pilot needs to know. Behind the pilot's console, set back against the bulkhead near the exit are two black leather seats to accommodate the copilot and the navigator. A nod is given over to Jaspar as he lets Ezzi slide into the cockpit first past him, like a gentleman, although that doesn't mean much to her. Still nice though. Her icy eyes narrow upon the layout and slowly pan the dim lit cockpit. "Well regardless of the mess, it's nice and roomy." She then moves over to the navigation terminal and accesses the main astrogation computer. The typical tid bits of information project across the monitor but after a few twists here and there the monitor is released to be lifted up by a hydraulic piston, giving entrance to the hardware. Cabling litters the tightly packed space but there is still enough room to reach the diagnostic output switch. Upon the flipping, a heavy glow appears on the monitor and as it is lowered back down against that piston, the diagnostic menu is revealed.%r%t "Looks like we're working with an LpG-430, and the Ghtroc 720 standardized software suite." She locks the monitor back into place to secure it and turns around to face Jaspar. "It could be upgraded. There are several systems that are more modularized and expandable that could fit in the space you have. However, a ship-wide internal computer system would really require extensive work. If that is something you are interested in." The smuggler just kinda hangs back and lets Ezzie do her poking and prodding around, since he's more 'flyboy' than engineer. He knows enough to refuel his ship, reset the system in case of a crash, and fly from A to B, but that's pretty much it. Don't ask him to manually calibrate the intermix ratio, or anything of that sort, otherwise he'll give you that "deer in the headlights" look. "...Huh. Never knew that did that.." He says. Eloquent, no? A soft tittle is let out in response to his deer in the headlights look at never having seen some of the guts to the ship as it were. "It's not something that most people would know about. Even those that have owned their ships for /years/." She finally cracks that bottle open she has been lugging around and takes a nice gulp. "Also it's a bit of a shock to some to see their ship like that." She chuckles out in recollection, "I remember opening up a control terminal in front of a pilot and he just freaked out. You would think that he had just seen his best friends innards strung out into decoration. I guess some folks would rather not know." She beams a satisfied smile over to Jaspar. Jaspar nods, slowly, letting things sink in. "Yeah.." Sure, he's seen SOME of his ship's inner workings, but never stuff like this. It really IS like seeing your best friend's guts being splayed out. Kinda unnerving, to be sure. But he's a big boy, and this is his ship, he's not going to lose his marbles over someone working on it. "So, what's the prognosis, doc?" He says, trying to put some humor into (at least to him) an otherwise tense situation. "Prognosis is: She's fine. A bit dated, but otherwise in good health. There are some upgrades that would make her run a lot better, but those cost money. And time. And money." She slips into the co-pilot seat and leans back. "Yeah, anything that gets an overhaul or an upgrade would give some significant layover to your business schedule, so yeah." She finishes with another swig and then leans back forward. "I'm getting kind of beat. I think this tour is going to end with a room, a bed, and a long nap." A stretch and a yawn is given as the booze is starting to having the effect of a sleep aid. "Give me a few minutes to prep quarters. The Sullustans all share a room.." Jaspar winces at that admission. "But yes, please, make yourself at home." He does a little 'mi casa es tu casa' flourish, with a smile.